


Hope is a dangerous thing to have (but I keep a tight grip on it)

by Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish



Series: Inktober 2020 SanCor fest [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Final Fantasy XV, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish/pseuds/Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish
Summary: Inktober prompt #10: HopeContinuation of prompt #9, but some years in the future.
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Cor Leonis
Series: Inktober 2020 SanCor fest [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948696
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19





	Hope is a dangerous thing to have (but I keep a tight grip on it)

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for Joffrey.

After the execution of her father, Sansa held tight to Jeyne and would not allow the girl and her dearest friend to be taken away. When guards came in, Sansa screamed and clawed, fought tooth and nail until Cersei had to come sweeping into the room at all the commotion. She had took in the scene of Sansa holding Jeyne close to her body, both looking disheveled and bedraggled. She took in the fierce anger and grief in the girl’s eyes and then looked at the frustrated guards, and the scratches gouged into their faces.

Cersei took it all in and a deal was made. Sansa would be compliant with everything the Lannisters wanted of her, and she would be able to keep her friend. Step out of line, and Jeyne would die. Sansa agreed.

She took the beatings with muffled cries, holding her head up high in the shame that was spewed upon her. Joffrey jeered at how her brother had not come for her, had not even raised the banners to fight for her. And Sansa, despite how much she wished to leave, was _relieved_. She knew that Starks never fared well south, just look at her right now, and she wanted her family to stay exactly where they were.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t have hope for a rescue.

After a month of no word, Joffrey grew angered and frustrated by the lack of retaliation, and took it out on Sansa. And when she continued to be unbroken in the face of his wrath, he turned to Jeyne.

The day was of the usual expectations. The girls were called into the throne room, with Joffrey holding court. He had called Sansa to the front, who calmly stepped forward and awaited the humiliation. Instead, there was a struggle and cry behind her, and Sansa turned and watched in horror as instead, it was her friend that was pushed to her knees.

Trying to run to her friend’s side, two guards had gripped Sansa by the arms, and made her watch as her friend was beaten instead. The room, once filled with only Sansa’s muffled cries and the uncertain, nervous tittering of the court, were now filled with the painful wails of Jeyne, and Sansa’s wrathful screams. She _howled_ like a beast, like a trapped wolf, flailing and struggling against the hands that held her back. She spat threats and vitriol at the people around her, at the guards beating her best friend.

She had raged and raged with no exhaustion, never letting up in the struggle to escape. Joffrey had laughed and mocked her for her tears of _hatred_.

Soon, the beatings had stopped, with Jeyne lying in a collapsed, sobbing heap in the middle of the room. Sansa heaved, panting from her rage, and stopped struggling. Her eyes though, never left her friend, even when Joffrey came prancing over to stand in front of Sansa. She did not acknowledge him, until he gripped her face, impatient, and jerked her gaze to him.

Her ears were pounding with blood, _fury_ rushing through her veins, that she did not know what he had said. All she knew was that when he got close enough, she lashed out and slammed her head into his nose. The throbbing pain in her head was nothing to the beatings she had been subjected to, and Joffrey had not known pain at all.

He went stumbling back with a cry, blood spraying from his face, and the guards had loosened their hold in shock enough for her to break free and run to Jeyne. She had collapsed by her side and gathered her close, hands becoming slick with the blood on Jeyne’s back, and ignored the men pointing swords at her. Ignored the furious screams from Joffrey.

She instead rocked Jeyne’s body and held her tightly. Jeyne, whose hands were trembling from pain, had grasped tight to the front of her dress and she shook with tears. Sansa held the back of her head and pressed soft kisses to the mussed brown hair.

It wasn’t until a pair of booted feet came into view that Sansa looked up with blazing eyes, ready to attack anyone who dared to take Jeyne away from her. And saw that an older man stood in front of the girls, with stern green eyes looking down on the messy heap they made on the floor of the throne room. He took in the bloodied girl. He took in the furious girl. And then he ordered them out of the throne room, ignoring the indignant cries of Joffrey.

Tywin had entered the throne room to the sounds of screams, and witnessed his grandson get head-butted by a girl. He witnessed his grandson, the king, fall in pain as the girl ran to the side of the severely beaten girl.

The ice cold eyes that stared him down fearlessly had him raising an eyebrow but ordering them away. He was a ruthless man, that was true. But beating and tormenting a hostage wasn’t something even _he_ would stoop so low to do.

Sansa had scooped up Jeyne in her arms, the girl feeling dreadfully light and whimpering in pain, and carried her out of the throne room herself. When the maester had bustled into their room, greedy hands ready to wander Jeyne’s body, as he did with her’s, Sansa had growled at him, ordering him out despite his complaints. She would tend to her friend herself, already having many left over salves from her own wounds.

Like when Jeyne would ten to her wounds, Sansa began to wipe away the blood, singing gently to ease the girl’s pain. She then dabbed on the salve, and used the many bandages that Sansa had to wrap up the wounds. The other girl had been silent except for the few sniffles and shuddered breaths that she had released during Sansa’s care.

Her face was turned away, but as soon as Sansa had finished, she shifted it to the other side, her wet brown eyes meeting Sansa’s. “When will he get here, Sansa?” She had asked, tearfully, desperation burning bright in her eyes.

Sniffling, tears still running from before, Sansa affirmed, “Soon. It took us three months to get to King’s Landing. On horse back, Cor should be here by the end of the second month.”

Lip wobbling, Jeyne let out a wet utterance. “ _I want to go home_.”

Sansa laid down next to her, her own tears shedding. “ _So do I._ ” She had whispered, and they held each other close as the night grew in the sky, hope still burning bright despite the pain and fear.

When Cor got word that Sansa was held hostage and that Lord Eddard Stark was dead, he had turned to his mother and father silently, his ferocious expression enough for them to understand what he wordlessly spoke. Cor originally wanted to go south with the rest of them, but his parents had said that he still had more training to finish before he was ready to truly act as Sansa’s shield, and then he could ride south to join her. The oath made as a child was one he had upheld on the day he turned thirteen and knelt before her. Sansa’s parents were of course against it, but they’ve learnt that Cor would not be stopped. Neither children cared about station or nobility, much to Sansa’s parent’s despair. But even after the oath, he continued to train, though he pushed harder and faster than ever to be as strong as he could.

And now, the lady he sworn to protect, his _friend_ , was held hostage, miles away from them. And he knew that the new Lord of Winterfell would start a war in the name of his father and get his sisters back. It was a moronic idea.

Cor stormed into the great hall where many lords were arguing and yelling over one another, the Genji blade hung on his waist. He stormed in, shoving the doors open and watched as the occupants all fell silent as he marched his way through the hall, up the aisle, to where Robb Stark sat at the head table. He slammed both his hands down onto the wood and stared the other dead in the eye.

“ _Do not_. Go. To _War_.” He firmly demanded.

The other boy slowly stood up as well, and glared, “And why not, Leonis.”

“Because I will get them back myself.” He declared.

Gritting his teeth at Cor’s confident reply, Robb retorted arrogantly, “ _I_ can do that myself, _and_ get justice for my father.”

Cor snapped, voice rising, he slammed his hands on the table again. “ _Fuck justice, the man’s already dead!_ Your _sisters_ are _alive_ and _hostages_ in that castle, and if you think that your enemies would be treating them well then you are a _fool_.” He hissed with anger.

The other scoffed, but Cor could see the true worry in his eyes for his siblings and the grief for the loss of a father. “And you think _you_ could storm the castle yourself?”

Cor pointed out, “I’m one person who can easily go unnoticed and I am Sansa’s swornsword. I do not _need_ your permission to get her back.” He told the other, and Robb narrowed his eyes at the obvious disloyalty and what could be seen as treason.

“I am your _lord.”_

Cor stared the other down and harshly declared, “I’m loyal to _no_ lord or king. _Only_ Sansa.”

They continued to glare at one another before Robb gave a curt nod and Cor drew away from the table. He turned to look at all the men in the room and dryly stated, “Try not to start a war until after I get them home.”

And then swept out of the great hall, anger still radiating off of him.

He had packed and prepared That night, and when dawn rose above the tree line, Cor saddled up his horse and got ready to leave. He had spare clothes for himself and for the girls, knowing their dresses would make it very obvious who they were. And the sight of Catelyn Stark making her way to him had him pausing, though he was anxious to leave already.

She stared up at him and for a long moment there were no words spoken, then she took a deep breath. “I do not approve of your relationship was Sansa, as it is not befitting of her station to befriend a lowborn boy. But you care for her safety, so I’m trusting you with my daughters.”

Cor frowned down at her and gripped the reins tightly.

“Maybe think about how the boy _you_ arranged for her to marry, the boy _you_ decided was _befitting_ for your daughter, is the boy that chopped off your husband’s head and is allegedly _tormenting_ his betrothed. Think about that, and then come back to me on who is _truly_ befitting to be with your daughter.”

And then Cor spurred the horse into action, riding out the gates as fast as he could. He knew it would take nearly two months to reach the castle, but he held onto hope that Sansa would be alive when he arrived.

**Author's Note:**

> I have fallen in love with this new au, so here is a small snippet of Sansa and Jeyne (because fuck yeah let them stay together) hostages in KL, and Cor on his way to rescue.
> 
> Sansa seems a little more confident, but that years with her and Cor, and her interacting with Cor’s mother, has boosted that confidence of hers.


End file.
